I am the Kid Screaming at Protests and I am not Sure What the Fuck I am Doing Here.

 Written by Amamah Sadar

Hey Mom and Dad,

This isn't a fucking ice cream store. You promised that if I let you borrow my crayons, markers, and my glue gun, we could go get some ice cream with any topping I wanted. Instead we're on the side of some road with twenty people screaming to re-open some store called, economy. 

This is the 100th time this year that you both have lied to me and promised ice cream, toys, and one time, a goddamn puppy in exchange for my help. But every fucking time, you take me to some sidewalk where you scream for hours and take pictures of me holding the signs I made. I’m really not sure what I did wrong, but at this point, it’s just cruel and confusing.  

Last week we ended up in an Applebee's parking lot and I thought to myself, 'Billy, you misjudged them. They're not bad people at all. I just had to earn my reward. I'm glad I spent five hours drawing life size guns on poster boards.’

Instead, we just stayed in the lot and circled the Applebees like we were about to attack. Frankly, I am embarrassed that it took me so long to realize that we weren’t there for the 2 for 20 dinner. I was so mad that of course I was going to stomp around and scream, "I'd rather die than not have my brownie sundae."

If my work was shitty, I wouldn't be this angry. But I've worked long hours, sometimes through my nap time, to color, glitter, and misspell words on a poster for you. My posters are A + material and I’ve even come up with some solid chants, including a particularly popular one from last week, "Grandma wants to die, let her die now." 

I do want to take a second to say that I had no idea grandma wanted to die! Holy shit, we should talk to her about that because I can’t be the only one who was a bit shocked that she wants to go to the great beyond when just a few weeks ago she talked about spending the summer with us. 

Honestly, I love grandma and feel horrible about the last part of that chant, especially since you made her stand right next to me. To be fair, I only said it because you told me that she's the reason I can't have ice cream.  

But I am tired now. I am tired of the lies, I am tired of doing your arts and crafts projects, holding signs for hours, and mostly, I am tired of not knowing why the fuck I am at all these gatherings. It feels like there’s a different theme each week. I’ve even been asked to help Aunt Cathy with her posters which is double the work because she refuses to reuse what I’ve made for you. Apparently, it goes against everything she believes in and thinks it is “unethical.” But that doesn’t stop her from making me draw and hold signs for her too. 

I don’t even think you’ve noticed that I’ve started to combine all of yours and Aunt Cathy’s causes into one poster. Last week, I made a poster that had a gun, dead baby, protect the earth slogan, and the stop sign with a needle in it. I figured that if we chant everything we want at once, we don’t have to go to these anymore.

I don’t want you to think I am ungrateful and expendable like grandma. I appreciate you teaching me so much about the world and protecting me from evil things like those pointy needles. Because of you, I now know that doctors try to inject you with trackers and that you can’t believe a single thing you hear or read on the news, in textbooks, or in regular books. Your lessons and advice will stay with me for decades. All I ask is that you start to keep your promises and find a different way to punish me.